


Familiar Souls (What Are Faces Anyways)

by Chaos_Greymistchild



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Boggarts, Crack, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drabbles Not Necessarily 100 Words, M/M, Not Beta Read, Regrets, Reincarnation, The Author Regrets Everything, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-03-20 19:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18998908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Greymistchild/pseuds/Chaos_Greymistchild
Summary: Obligatory HP-xover.Ichigo-as-Harry/Kisuke-as-Draco.No, I don't have any idea what the ever-lovingfuckI'm doing.





	1. hi do I know you?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 - ~~“Get out of the city tonight. I'm burning it to the ground.” |~~ “In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”
> 
> Yeah, I'm throwing the crack-fic at the most poetic of the prompts. Because fuck everyone who said that I couldn't do crack-fic and also just fuck everyone.

Ichigo jerked his head up from his book at the familiar reiatsu bleeding through the carriage. “ _Kisuke?_ ” he yelped, when he saw that distinctive green and white fan held in small, pale hands.

The owner of said hands and fan stared at him. ” _Ichigo?_ ”

He snorted and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah,” he ducked his head in embarrassment, “finally got the black hair.”

“Go on ahead, Crabbe, Goyle,” Kisuke ordered the two boys behind him without turning around.

The two burly boys hesitated for a moment before lumbering off.

“You know _Malfoy_ , Harry?” the redhead beside him asked, disgustedly.

Ichigo ignored the redhead in favour of tackling Kisuke to the ground and punching him. On his mouth. With his mouth. Several times.

“Harry Potter,” Kisuke panted afterwards, “how tragic.”

He raised a brow. “What’s so tragic about it?”

“Well, my family are supporters of the Dork Lord Voldewarts, and you’re the Boy Who Lived and the one to kill said Dork Lord.”

They both ignored the choking noises that was coming from the redhead. He dragged Kisuke in for another breathless kiss.


	2. kisuke, are you sure this isn't a hougyoku?

Kisuke and Ichigo stood in front of the mirror, staring at the blood red stone that had been the thorn in their sides the entire year.

“Hey, geta-boushi, are you sure this isn’t a hougyoku?” Ichigo asked him doubtfully.

The energy levels the stone was leaking just by existing were insanely high, it was a fair question.

“The hougyoku can grant wishes,” he told him absently, “this one just gives you supposed immortality and riches.”

“Right, in that case.”

Ichigo dropped the stone onto the floor, pulled out Zangetsu, and ground the balefully red stone into dust.

“Problem solved.”

Kisuke looked from the fine, glittering dust on their feet and ankles, then up at Ichigo, and back again.

“I’m going to be finding red in my underwear for _weeks_ , do you have any idea how much glitter, dust and sand _travel_? We’re not going to be free of this until at least another couple weeks if not months—Ichigo are you listening to me?! Stop laughing, Ichigo, _Ichigo_ , no stop it, you don’t understand, eeeuuuuugh.”


	3. what do you mean stabbing teachers is wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so super sorry no teachers got stabbed in this drabble. I totally meant for teachers to get stabbed. They didn’t get stabbed. Why, me, why.

Ichigo was completely unashamed that he’d thought the sliver of soul attached to his new DADA teacher was normal and that he’d let it fly without comment. To be entirely fair, his ‘teacher’ in his past life had been Kisuke. He had come to expect a certain cavalier attitude regarding souls.

Kisuke was equally unashamed that his first instinct upon first meeting their DADA teacher was to poke his parasite with his reiatsu. He was a scientist for Soul King’s sake! Poking things with a stick was what he did!

That said, neither of them expected the teacher to freeze, fall into a dead faint, and for a black shadowy wisp of smoke to crawl out of the back of the teacher’s head and fly out the window. During class.

They glanced at each other. Yeah, that was weird. 


	4. of terror: coronations and fearlessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually doubles, nearly triples, total fic wc with one chapter*
> 
> Slight debarture from your regularly scheduled crack, but every boggart episode has a little twist of horror in it, so there.

Ichigo grabbed his hand and held tight. He didn’t say anything, even though Ichigo had to be gripping tight enough to grind bone. Kisuke was pale and drawn, eyes fixated on the suddenly far too ominous cabinet.

He didn’t want to know what his greatest fear was – if the boggart could even conceptualise it. How would it even manifest abstract fears like the fear of death, or of heights? How did even know what they feared the most? Did it reach into their minds like the Sorting Hat had? Was it only able to passively scan? Or go deeper? Presumably deeper, since they were dealing with their greatest fears, here, but was it like Aaroniero, who could reach so deep they could mimic another perfectly or—

His face was guided down and buried in a muscular shoulder that was growing more and more familiar with every passing day.

“We’ll get through this, Kisuke,” a soft voice at his ear, “we always do. This won’t keep up down.”

He let himself have that one moment of weakness, then stepped free.

He kept his fingers locked with Ichigo’s as he stepped up to the line.

The rollerbladed giant spider seemed to pause, take a moment to consider him. Then what was in front of him wasn’t a scene from his nightmares, wasn’t what he’d felt in the depths of his greatest despair or guilt.

It was a simple, singular throne. There were no adornments, no carvings, no jewels inlaid.

He fell to his knees in front of it. He didn’t dare move.

It was an illusion, he _knew_ but—

He controlled himself. Recounted the facts. The last he knew; the Soul King was dead. They killed Ywach. The throne was _filled_. ~~At least temporarily but _still_ —~~

A hand landed heavy on his shoulder, steadying, but not holding him down.

He lifted himself to his feet. “ _Riddikulus_ ,” he rasped. Nothing happened, he didn’t have an image in his head, how to turn the _Soul King’s throne_ funny, he didn’t know. He was taught to respect it, revere it, not to- to debase it.

It didn’t have to be funny. It just had to make him laugh.

“ _Riddikulus_ ,” he snarled, jabbing his wand sharply.

Stitches ripped through what would have been impenetrable sekkiseki, tearing it to pieces, and he barked savage glee. The hand still resting on his shoulder tugged, gently, and he let himself fall back and Ichigo take his place.

A shriek that he would never forget split the air. He stuttered mid-step, nearly falling straight into _shunpo_ out of pure instinct. His brain caught up, before he even took a single step, and he stumbled over the flagstone floor. A hand caught his collar and hauled him upright. He didn’t protest the rough treatment, knowing that Ichigo was too focussed on his raging Hollow form.

“ _Riddikulous_.”

He looked up. The Hollow’s arms were wrenched behind its back with _bakudo 99: kin_ , and bound head to toe in the spiritual fabric and pierce through with the bolts of _bakudo 99: bankin_. The Third Song was missing, and he was puzzled for a brief moment, then belatedly realised that Ichigo had never actually seen the complete _bankin_ and probably thought that was all to it.

The Hollow roared defiance against the crushing power pressing down on it and charged a _cero_ between its horns.

“ _Riddikulous_.”

A black streak barrelled into the Hollow, and suddenly a black-haired, black-clad teenager was tussling around with a bleached-white mirror copy of Ichigo on the ground. An amused chuckle from beside him, and he realised with a jerk that the black-clad teenager must have been Tensa Zangetsu. He couldn’t help his own laughter once he realised and shuddered with suppressed laughter as they moved aside for the next in the line.

Lupin looked shocked and confused, but stepped up to the plate readily, calling the next student up to take their turn at fending off the boggart.

“Losing control?” he asked Ichigo softly, once they were tucked into a corner of the staffroom, scowls and glares ensuring that no one would bother them.

Ichigo shook his head. “Being fearless. Racing into everything without thought to the consequences, losing people because I couldn’t hold back for one moment to feel a perfectly healthy moment of fear. Charging in—” he cut himself off.

Kisuke leaned into Ichigo. “It’s fine. We’re… mostly safe here. And we know how to handle things far better than perhaps most of the teachers here.”

Ichigo mirrored him. “Ywach or Aizen taking the throne, for you? Tearing the world apart with your Benihime?”

“Taking the throne myself,” he admitted, for the first time. “You saw what the previous thing was like. It couldn’t even stop its limbs and organs from being torn out.”

Ichigo pressed his forehead to his own and hugged him. “It’s okay, Kisuke. It’s okay. We stuck Ywach’s corpse on the throne, it’s a good stabiliser, it’ll last a hundred years. One thing at a time, yeah?”

He nodded, nuzzling into Ichigo.

The bell rang, and he reluctantly pulled away so that they could navigate properly through the castle without bumping into walls.

Ichigo held his hand the entire time to the Great Hall.


End file.
